


You Taste Like a Nightmare Feels (And He Reminds Me of the Sky)

by mydogfoundthechainsaw



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M, Fix-It, Reincarnated lovers trope is just annoying, cisco and kendra deserve happiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-13 08:55:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5702545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mydogfoundthechainsaw/pseuds/mydogfoundthechainsaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After leaving Central City, Kendra lives with Carter, regaining her powers, her memories. But she doesn't want to become Shayera. She wants to be Kendra. She wants to be a Hawkwoman without falling for Carter. So she starts talking to Cisco. And things...go from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Starting Over Never Sounds Pretty

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this because I'm slightly angry about the whole, yes, I will go with you because we are reincarnated lovers, when Kendra and Cisco were so adorable together. Plus, everyone else on the show has way too many romantic complications. So they need some too. Plus. Reincarnation and destiny are fun to play around with.
> 
> Also, probably terrible characterization of Carter, but there's not a lot to go with, so stay with me here.

If she had known saying yes to Carter—Khufu, whatever—would involve listening to so many depressing tales of the past, she would’ve kidnapped Cisco and moved to France. France seemed fun. What didn’t seem fun was listening to Khufu talk like a crotchy old man about their past lives. He had so many more memories than her, and she couldn’t stand it. The power those memories held. It shouldn’t have mattered, but she needed to know. Knowledge would let her master what she was. And then she’d be free.

                But the power of the memories was also destructive. Cisco had forwarded the history of Carter Hall. It was so different than the Carter she knew. Pre-memories, Carter was funny—she’d read the social media posts to prove it—and a lot less hot-tempered. Now he seemed permanently sour, and a little too ready to punch things.

                So she texted Cisco. Personal relationships were always fraught with her, but she needed him. To keep her her. To keep it so that one day she _could_ run away to France. One version of her had to have lived there, to have spoken the language.

**_So has there been time to see the new Star Wars?_ **

She hoped he was there. It’d been two weeks or so since she’d left. Left him with some excuse about knowing who she was. How love was hard. But _she_ would never be in love with Carter. Chay-Ara loved Khufu. But she’d died so many years ago. So many many years ago that she shouldn’t have any say on her life as Kendra.

**_Of course there has. Has all that flying damaged your head?_ **

**_Please tell me the flying is as awesome as it looks._ **

**_I’m begging you._ **

                Cisco was what Kendra could love. It was possible. There were flashes. Of other lives, lives Carter always forgot to mention. And in those lives, the person she woke up next to wasn’t Carter. It was a tall, fidgety Asian chef, or a woman who had a voice that could make grown men cry. She kept them close, hidden, and before she fell asleep, she always tried to end with Cisco instead.

**_Well, your life is so insane, I wasn’t sure._ **

**_And of course. It’s…it puts a new perspective on things._ **

                For a warrior, Carter clumped down hallways like he’d never heard of subtlety. Maybe princes didn’t need it. When she looked down, Cisco was still typing a reply, and she felt the rebellious part of her take hold.

**_When I get the hang of it, I’m totally taking you._ **

**_Not very long, because I probably can’t hold you very long, but you have to see it for yourself._ **

                There. Done. She shut off her phone as Carter walked in. “Ready for training?”

                A hello would’ve been nice, but he’d stopped doing those a couple of days ago. Probably because she snapped her hellos back. It wasn’t her fault. He wanted someone else. Someone who remembered a life she hoped she never would. “Of course. Flying, right?”

                “It’s always been your favorite.”

                Her jaw clenched. He noticed it, most likely, but turned to lead her to the field. And she followed. Flying was her favorite. Followed by magic. Which he couldn’t teach her. She had to remember. Which she told him she was. But the memories weren’t coming.

                Or she wasn’t letting them. Instead, she was searching things on the internet. Searches which had eventually led her to various magicians—John Constantine, Papa Midnite, and others. From which she could establish tenuous connections, or find evidence they’d left behind. Plus, magic had never been a strong suit of Khufu’s, so Carter couldn’t tell.

                “And fighting? Where does that rank?”

                “You never said. You were meant for it, though. The way you look in a battle…” he drifted off, as he normally did when discussing her attractiveness or sexiness.

                He wanted her. She wasn’t stupid; she could sense it. For purely physical reasons, she could understand wanting him. But he was different. He had all the loves of the previous reincarnations. It was clouding his judgment. Proximity, in the form of years of memories, telling his brain that she was the one.

                “I’ll bet.” She replied, and he smiled and jumped.

                The one thing she envied him for was flight. He could jump and be off into the sky. It took her a running start—the muscle power wasn’t there yet—but when she was in the air, she was faster. Slimmer, streamlined body, he said, but she thought it was that she was meant to be up there. Up there, the past had no hold; no one could tell her who she used to be. She was merely Kendra, a flying woman. A sight, to be sure, but not a reincarnated Egyptian princess.

                They flew for a while, separately, and she was vaguely aware of him behind her. Protecting, admiring, remembering. But in the clouds, she could dream of another life. A life where she swooped down to Central City with a box of baked goods and a smile for the team that had saved her life.

                But that team was so far away now. Not only physically, but mentally. To survive this, to be who she had to be, she had to leave them behind. She kept trying, but her body was a traitor and even worse it was right. That thought was the last she had, though, before the exhilaration of flying caught up with her, and all she could think about was finding the best draft.

                At some point, she was told, by Carter, to stop. It didn’t process right away; when it did, her jaw clenched but she dropped like a stone. Like a drug, coming down was the worst part of flying. Partly because it reminded her there were other factors to herself, partly because she wasn’t alone anymore, and partly because she’d have to talk to him. “I’m gonna go to do some reading, now. You can keep flying. Just wanted to let you know,” he said, as her feet touched the ground.


	2. But You're Human Tonight

The spell was broken now, so it made no sense to go back into the air. Briefly, she considered asking what was wrong. He was always talkative after flight. But her phone vibrated against her leg, and she lost her train of thought.

**_You better not be calling me fat._ **

**_Took you long enough to come up with that smooth reply._ **

                With a small smile, she walked over to “her” tree. On the giant, abandoned tract of farmland they called home, trees were abundant, yet this one was special, reminding her of the one in front of her childhood home. Twisted, with low-hanging branches, perfect for climbing and sitting on. It gave her a perfect view of their tiny house. From the outside, it was another boring Kansas farmhouse, but inside, it was warm, covered in rugs and lamps, with new technology and weapons on every wall. The latter part concerned her, both because the constant reminder of violence and the fact she could use most of them.

**_My brilliance was being used elsewhere._ **

**_Another Flash emergency?_ **

**_Something like that._ **

**_You okay?_ **

                Her stomach dropped. Cisco was so human. Even if he was a meta, his powers weren’t defensive or offensive; they merely showed him another place, another world.

**_You worried about me, or something?_ **

**_I’m pretty much in the lab 24/7. I’ll be fine._ **

                Her fingers trembled over the phone.

**_~~I’ll teach you how..~~ _ **

**_~~Don’t do anythi~~ _ **

**_Be safe_ **

Which was a vague, not satisfactory way of expressing her feelings. But she could say it. She couldn’t trust her feelings anymore, only the most basic of ones. Because everything else was scrambled—all of her lives bleeding through into this one. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that she couldn’t live her life without all these others reflecting back.

**_Always am. You?_ **

                There was too many things to tell him. About flying, the way the air tasted different at 1,000 feet versus 2,000 feet, how you could lose yourself in a flock of birds. About sparring, learning medieval weapons effortlessly and the smell of a well-used sword. About how Kansas was something she’d only wish on her deadliest of enemies—which they already killed. And finally, about Carter. About their memories and destinies and how she wanted to erase it all.

**_Comme ci comme ca._ **

She really wanted France.

**_Where are you, btw?_ **

**_Or is that top secret?_ **

                It quite possibly was. But who would be after them now?

**_Kansas. Might be another version of hell._ **

**_The closest town is literally called Smallville. There’s no coffee shops, even a Starbucks._ **

**_Sucks for you._ **

**_Hey, you can catch up on reading, right?_ **

                Media was the one thing she couldn’t remember. Either past hers hadn’t cared, or it was not important enough to bleed through. Carter was affected, but she was beginning to think he’d dived into the deep end way too readily.

**_Yep. Any recommendations?_ **

                Their conversation spiraled from there. Apparently, Cisco had been waiting for someone to ask him that. Some of them actually sounded interesting. They kept getting off track, and eventually, the smell of shepherd’s pie wafted towards her.

                She ate quickly, which was normal. The food, as always, was delectable, and if anything, she would keep Carter just for that. Because her cooking skills were limited. “Anything exciting going on?” she asked, because she still wasn’t comfortable with silence. Not with him, at least.

                “Wars still going on. They always are. The queen of England did something. And Oliver Queen is doing well for the mayoral election.”

                “Anything from our hometowns?”

                “No.” One day, there would be something from his, and she’d learn about the man he used to be. That man, she thought, would be easier to like. Because right now, he was a conglomeration, mostly of older pieces, of a centuries old man. It didn’t all make sense. His reflexes, habits, varied, depending on which memories were coming back to him. That didn’t sit well with her. “Are you okay? You’ve seemed off today.”

                “I was just talking to someone from back home,” she replied, hoping it was the right choice. “It’s a good sort of off.”

                “We can go back eventually. You’ll see them again.” He ruffled the newspaper and resumed reading.

                Eventually was what he always said. She trusted him to take her back, yes, but she was worried about who would go back. How many memories would’ve taken over; how much of a fighter she would be. “Why are we doing this? Vandal’s dead.”

                Too much silence. Then, “You still need to learn. Imagine all the people you can help, now.”

                True. So she went back to shoving her food into her mouth, and then, when that was done, pulled out her phone and walked to her room. Cisco had replied to some comment, and they were at it again. It was something teenagers would do, staying up late to text their first boyfriend, but she did it anyways. And smiled the entire time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will try to finish this before the Legends show starts up too much, because that'll just fuck withthings. Also, non-beta'd


	3. Phonecalls from A Planecrash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phone calls! and Stuff!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it might be a little weird that Cisco's just immediately okay with her talking to him again. Becuase let's be real, it probably hurt when she left. And I will deal with his perspective in a bit.

Sleeping was fitful. Growing up, she’d gone dead five minutes in, but now, she woke up too much. Warrior’s nature, Carter would say. Or just stress and anxiety. Sometimes she wanted to punch him. Which she had a chance to, the next morning.

                Fridays. Lovely, normally, because they signaled the weekend, but now, sparring. Sparring was bittersweet—she felt powerful and goddess-like. But she also lost herself. Although she was getting better at keeping control, not just letting memory take over. Made her a worse fighter. Oh well. Her day was random bouts of sparring, punctuated by cardio or weights, with occasional water breaks thrown in. By the time dinner rolled around, she felt every muscle in her body, and wanted to lie on the ground and watch Netflix. Instead, it was her turn to cook, which turned into ground turkey stir fry, basically the only thing she could make. Carter acted surprised most everyt time, and she couldn’t determine whether it was because she had previously been a better cook, or he continuously hoped she would learn new recipes. The latter wasn’t really in the plans; her major plans had always been to find a boy/girlfriend who was inventive in the kitchen. Now she had one—kind of—and wanted to run.

                As she made for the last bite of her rice, Carter motioned at the bag that’d randomly appeared this morning. “I bought some games and movies for us to play. I know it can get boring out here.”

                “…thanks. That’s….that’s really nice of you.” She wanted to tear open the bag then and there, see what he’d chosen. But she shoved the last bite in, and went to put her plate away. As she did, Carter motioned for her to leave it, to go see the bag, and she gave him a small smile. That smile grew when she opened it. They were childhood favorites, but still a challenge and fun as an adult. “Were these…did I used to play these?”

                “No. Or I can’t remember if you did. These were some of my favorites, plus random ones,” he said from his new position cleaning. “When I was in college, playing games made me less homesick. I’d pull up Steam and battle with old friends.”

                Suddenly, the dish became ever fascinating to him, though, so she lost any more insight into him. Before she could talk herself out of it, she got up and wrapped him in a tight hug. He relaxed slowly into it. This wasn’t normal, for them, but it was good. This was what she’d wanted from Carter. Someone who’d understand her, finally, her feeling of being lost, outside. Different.

                When the dishes were clean, they argued over a movie for at least half an hour, before flipping a coin for the choice. The movie turned out to be shit, but in a good way. Plus, the popcorn—some weird mix of seasonings she’d perfected as a teen—was delicious. As the credits started to roll, her phone beeped.

                A Snapchat, of a terribly drunk-looking Barry, with a caption **_super-metabolism thwarted!._**

Super-metabolism? She smiled, then tilted her head. It actually did make sense. Hers was up now, although that was possibly just the amount of work she was doing. But Barry’s. Barry’s must’ve been terrible. Before the picture disappeared, she showed it to Carter. A move, not meant to invoke jealousy, although she didn’t think that far through, but merely to show him the insanity of those who’d saved them for the rest of eternity. He laughed, a real one, one that would make anyone perk up. “The struggles of a hero.”

                Seven minutes later, another one came through. This time, a video of Barry. “I’m…I’m not drunk, you guys. I can’t get _drunk_ anymore. Do you know what that feels like? I can do anything and I’ll heal. It’s amazing.” He was smiling, eyes way too wide, and the effect was rather creepy. He was moving in and out of the frame, and Caitlin’s laughter was like petals of snow in the background.

                “They definitely sound like they’re having fun.”

                “Yeah. I’m gonna go to bed, I guess. I want to get some reading done before bed.” And Carter nodded and let her go.

                **_You shouldn’t torture the hero of Central City._**

**_I’m definitely like 1/3 the brains of this operation. That should get me some sort of leeway._**

**_Plus, he’s already going through the hangover stage._ **

**_That’s freaky._ **

**_~~What else—are you planning~~ is that all you have planned for the night? Torturing your best friend?_ **

**_No. He’s leaving for Patty soon, I think. I have to catch up on my podcasts._ **

**_Oh._ **

**_Why, what are you doing?_ **

**_Just finished watching a really stupid movie. It was kinda nice, but I’m getting sick of only being around Carter_ **

                That was pushing it, a little, discussing him, but it was true. Even if they had been in love, she’d be sick of being around him. It was just too much of one person.

                **_Oh._**

**_Is there like no one else to talk to?_ **

How pathetic was it to say no? It wasn’t from a lack of options, but merely a lack of people who she could be honest with. Pretty much any of her friends would’ve found her new life alien and terrifying. She did too.

**_I guess there aren’t a lot of reincarnated priestesses in Kansas. You have Skype?_ **

Well it was definitely what she’d wanted him to say, but not totally what she’d expected. **_I’m sure I can figure it out._**

**_They always say that at first._ **

                But it only took her a couple of minutes to get it figured out, without any help from Cisco. And soon she was staring at Cisco’s bandaged face. “I thought you said you were fine!”

                “Huh? What? Oh. That’s from running into something in the lab. I swear. Caitlin! Tell her!”

                “I have video proof. He was using one of those new hoverboard things.”

                “Have you seen them? They’re fucking amazing.” She couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm.

                “No. Being away from everything has its benefits.”

                “Yeah, okay, where are you? Kansas sounds terrible, but there are some pockets of civilization.”

                “We’re not near any.”

                The conversation paused there. His smile was flickering between happy and fake, and all she wanted was for it to stop. Finally, she licked her lips and opened her mouth. “About….the way I left. I’m sorry about that. I thought…I needed to figure out this whole thing. And I thought getting away from the past would be the way to do that.”

                Emotions flickered across his face as she stammered through her words. “What changed?”

                “Well, I realized realizing my ancient history might destroy _me_. And it fucking terrifies me. I can’t…I want to be Kendra. A flying Kendra, with the knowledge of thousands of years, but still me.”

                “Wait. You can remember that much? That’s fucking awesome. Were you by any chance anything famous throughout the years?” How he shoved it down, she'd never know. She must've hurt him. She wasn't a kind enough person if their situations were reversed. Or something. 

                “Pretty sure I died before I got the chance.”

                The words slipped out, but by god did they make his face drop. This wasn’t supposed to be a depressing thing. She wanted to just be happy, and here she was, fucking things up like always. “But how’s the lab been going? You invented your death ray yet?”

                “That would be impractical, and also, it leaves so much room for interpretation….” He kept talking about the death ray and she was happy, so goddamn happy it was sad. And she hadn’t known why she stopped this. Their conversation drifted all over from there, like all conversations always did, and the butterflies in her stomach rolled happily around.

                And then there was the polite, three knocks of Carter and the door opened a crack. He’d probably heard a lot anyways, or else it was a huge coincidence he’d walked in just after Cisco’d finished a story. “Hey. You want to go into town tomorrow?”

                “Yeah!” It came out a little too happy, but honestly, if her brain wasn’t running on Cisco’s smile, she’d still be happy with the chance to get out of Kansas. Although with her wings, she could’ve at any point. It was trust that bound her here. And she hated that they both knew how much she needed Carter.

                “Okay. Good night. And night, Cisco.”

                Strangely, he sounded fond as he said the words. She’d never understand him. Wasn’t sure if she even understood herself, though, so there was that. “And he’s actually not that creepy. Wow. You know how to pick them.”

                “It was a long time ago, okay?”

                For a while, they were both laughing. Finally, she collected her breath. “No, he’s…it makes you weird, having all these memories. But I’m learning. You wouldn’t believe how good I am at flying. It’s amazing…”

                Flying was all she could talk about for a while, but eventually, she actually looked at her clock, and realized getting up early was a thing. So she coughed during a story that was going on a bit too long. “Late! It’s late, and you probably have to get up early to fly or something terrible! Night, then.”

                “Night, Cisco,” she replied, and her voice came out too fond. But she was going to hell anyways, might as well go all in. He smiled and she shut off her screen.


	4. For a Brief Time, I Simply Breathed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Since the Incident, as Kendra thinks of it, things have happened. But also not.

                At some point, she expected Carter to talk to her about all of this, and part of her wanted to. They needed to talk, even if she didn’t want to. Not even about Cisco. It was about everything—their future and her life after all this training and where everything was going. If they could air it all out, maybe she’d feel better about it all.

                Or maybe pigs would fly. Shoving emotions away was kind of her specialty, especially during this period, she’d remembered. Because all the memories flooding through just made it difficult to think well enough to articulate yourself. So generally, she kept her lid shut. Perhaps this is why every memory she had was generally terrible. Or maybe their life just was.

                But they went about their daily business. They flew, they sparred, she did magics and Carter researched, they went shopping. That could’ve been exciting, but it was Kansas, so she was disappointed. Time passed. It flew like she did, and she was worried her situation was becoming hostage like. That she’d never get out, and inside, Stockholm syndrome herself into loving her past. That wasn’t what she hoped, but she could feel it coming.

                During all of it, she kept texting Cisco. And Snapchatting Iris, which generally consisted of terrible, angry images of things she was working on. And somehow, communicating, via Vines and gifs, with Caitlyn. She wasn’t actually sure how she’d fallen into this, but at some point, she’d gotten an exasperated message from Caitlyn about her work. It was something science-y she didn’t fully understand, but she found it fun. And that had spiraled into Iris too. It was nice, to talk to these people, she realized, and she tentatively reconnected with a couple of people from before Central City. Which made her even more sure she wouldn’t lose herself.

                For all her talking, though, she’d refused to talk to Carter. And he’d wanted to, but things either popped up, or she made them. It was a terrible coping system. They could talk about anything, but she stepped around feelings like they were landmines. Iris had tried to talk her into doing something about it once, but she’d moved around it, and soon they were back to complaining about Panic!’s newest album. And idiotic politicians.

                Talking to them had made her realize something, though. Her powers could be handy, and that no matter what, she was going to keep using them to save people. She might not be the next Flash, ready to stop a team of metas, but she could fly in and stop a mugging. And Carter, for all he was, was useful in this pursuit. If they could just get out of the tiny house, they might actually get somewhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so this is short. I think I might be changing the path of the fic a little, plus school is actually a thing, but i want to try to finish this before legends gets too far into things. Because it's already fucked it up.


	5. Somewhere I'm Free, I Know It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things happen! No longer stuck in Kansas!

“We’re moving. You’re done with your training.”

                She bit back the urge to say thank you sensei, if only because she was afraid he’d take it the wrong way. And also bit back the urge to clap with joy, and allowed herself only a small, tight smile. “Cool. Where?

                “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

                Four hours flew by. A terrible pun, but all of her life seemed to be doing that, lately. IT was a struggle, to decide where they wanted to live. She had certain opinions, and Carter seemed to oppose all of them. Or at least, they’d had bad experiences in several places she actually wanted to go. She wanted the coast, though, if nothing else, and Carter couldn’t stomach going to California. So they picked a city that wasn’t Central or Star City, but was big enough for them to be useful.

                That night, she thought she’d be dead to the world quickly. They’d spent the rest of the day packing, and while she had basically nothing, anything still took too much energy. But her stomach felt like she was on a rolling boat, heading off from the deserted island to god-knows-where, and she couldn’t understand why everything felt like a war to her.

                Her phone buzzed, alive and loud, but she let the indicator light blink untouched. Since the decision, she hadn’t replied to any of them. Part of her hoped they freak out, show they cared, but part of her wanted to erase the past few weeks. She was getting close to them. And while their new location was a lot better than fucking Kansas, it still would take her some time to get there. Unfortunately, her flight was a lot slower than the Flash’s running.

                Moving to the new city was more stressful than going to Kansas. At least there, she knew they’d be alone, and not have to deal with everyone else. But here, in this new place, she needed a job and a pretend life and, most importantly, deal with Carter. Who apparently wanted their cover to be almost in a relationship. She didn’t want her start her new life as a repeat of a previous one. He’d been getting more touchy, lately, and Freudian slips occurred almost daily—calling her beautiful or lovely in old languages, staring at her like she was the moon, almost following her to her room. “I don’t feel comfortable doing that.”

                “Well, then what’s your idea?”

                “Siblings.” Stupid, but they could maybe pass it off. People would assume they were from different fathers, knowing their stupidity, but she could deal with that. She took a deep breath, and in the split second, decided to say what she’d been mulling. “I know our history suggests otherwise, but I’m not in that position, right now, Carter. And pushing forward without me feeling like that will ruin any possibility of anything.”

                Silence clawed around them for a time. She resisted the urge to find a song on the radio station, praying that her persistence would pay off. “Okay. I don’t want you to feel like that. It’s just. Whenever I see you, I see you through a hundred lifetimes of love.”

                _Poor you_ , she thought. She doubted he’d given too much thought to her, to having love forced upon her, told it was inevitable. Which it wasn’t. She was going to do what she wanted, and what she wanted wasn’t him. She kept promising herself that. “Thank you,” was all she replied.

                The radio came on then, and the rest of the drive passed uneventfully. They found a hotel room, with twin beds, and she excused herself for a walk. Ten minutes out of the door, she dialed a number. “Hey. What’s up?”

                Iris. Still not sure why they were friends, if you could call it that. Maybe people who called each other to bitch often and also loved coffee too much and had terrible love lives and wanted way too much for themselves. “I’m finally out of Kansas.”

                Not too much excitement bled into her voice, she thought approvingly. “Finally. I was wondering why you didn’t reply last night.”

                “I was a little stressed about what was going to happen.” Iris hmm’ed appropriately in the background, and from there, the conversation was on. She had found a brother, apparently, adding to the insanity of Team Flash, and Barry’s girlfriend was her father’s partner and she’d been investigating drug rings. Her life was a lot more exciting than Kendra’s, and when it came time for her to volunteer herself, she kept it simple. But Iris, as always, was interested in her flying and sparring and congratulated her on talking Carter down and encouraged her to use her reincarnated knowledge to get a job she was actually into. Most likely teaching languages, or working with immigrants, and Iris said she would convince Cisco or Caitlin or Felicity to make up documents, if needed. And she laughed at that, but thanked the heavens that she wasn’t on Iris’s bad side.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So like he's dead now???? Which ruins this fic??? But I'm slightly glad--don't murder me--cause I didn't like the whole, we've always been soulmates so you will love me. It seemed creepy to me. I'm justhoping they don't ruin her character cause her man's dead now. Grr.


	6. New Place, Old Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moving to a new town is FUN!

                It was well past dark when she wandered back to the hotel. Carter was pacing the floor, and jumped her when she opened the door. She brushed off aggravation, and tried to keep in mind that she’d been gone for so long, that he was constantly worried about Savage. “I was worried you’d gotten lost or kidnapped,” he said into her hair.

                She hugged him back, trying to transmit an apology. “I let time get away from me. I was talking to Iris about stuff. She thinks…we were talking about jobs I could get, and I was thinking of a couple that might suit me.”

                “You are more than capable of any job here.” The love and admiration in his voice was unmistakable, but so was the pride. No matter what she said or who she was, he would always believe in her, she realized.

                “And she thinks she can get someone to make the credentials to back it up. She’d probably do it for you, too, if you asked.” It came as an afterthought, but she meant it. Both of them finding good jobs would be ideal. It would keep them grounded and give them a reason to fight. He stepped back, with this look of love on his face that was so blinding she had to stare at the ground.

                “Shay-ra, my…I will think on what I wish to be. Thank you. And wish Iris a thanks as well.”

                Joy. It was nice what Iris was planning to do, but it wasn’t extraordinary. “Have we never been able to choose?”

                “Most lifetimes, we’re too busy running from Savage to do what we wish. The ones we get our way is…extraordinary.”

                A couple would’ve kissed in the ensuing silence, but they decided to stare—her at the ground, and him at her—until he decided it was too late past their bedtime, and hustled her to her twin bed. Shockingly, she couldn’t sleep. It was a worrisome pattern.

                She always tried to avoid thinking about how often she’d been happy with Carter. Statistically, the odds were she would fall into his arms in a month or so. They were destiny, and she’d always loved the stories of soulmates. Independence was a beautiful thing, but knowing someone would be there for her, once she’d had her fill of adventures, had always appealed.

                But now, with him here? She couldn’t decide whether that appreciation had been a foretelling or some cruel trick of destiny. Being told you were going to fall in love with someone wasn’t romantic. If she’d found out, at the end, when she’d admitted her love, that he was the _One_ , it would’ve been fine. Now she was second-guessing everything, wondering how exactly self-fulfilling prophecies worked, and that was paranoia, not romance.

                Because, yes, maybe she could’ve fallen in love with Carter, had they actually dated, like normal people. With wings. But the Sanders’ stubbornness was legendary in its women—her mother had joined a carnival for a few weeks at the age of twenty because her roommate bet she couldn’t talk to the acrobat, and her great-grandmother had stubbornly, and repeatedly, voted in the face of danger. She came from a line of women who could not be told what they wanted, or what they couldn’t do.

                Although she wasn’t really a Sanders. Or was she? The reincarnation thing confused her. As she debated the theories, sleep finally overtook her.

                Clicking and typing awoke her, and she realized how important her own room was. Carter liked getting up early. She required too much coffee, coffee he refused to provide correctly, mostly because he had a sweet tooth about these sort of things.

                Groaning obnoxiously, she shoved herself up, got ready, and drank her coffee before plunking down next to Carter. “Ooooo! Apartments!”

                Nice apartments. Really nice, expensive apartments she couldn’t afford working double-time, and now, after spending time off? “Carter. How are we going to pay for this?”

                He shot her this look that said, ‘think about it, then get back to me.’ It was too early for this shit, but he wouldn’t actually help, because comparing the two-bedroom one on Cliffside and 81st to the two-bedroom on Harvard and 11th was obviously more important to explaining things to the sleep-deprived, supposed love of his life. She sighed, long and drawn out, and then realized it was reincarnation. “Do we save a bunch of money every time? How? It’s not like we live that long.”

                The Harvard one looked better, but he scrolled through the Cliffside one for a moment before looking at her. “Yes. One of our earliest lifetimes, you were born into money. And we saved it. Saved it right, all throughout the years, and now we have a good amount.”

                There are about a thousand questions she could ask about how that all works, and the legality of it, but the coffee hadn’t kicked in yet, so all she said was, “Huh. Cool. Harvard.”

                His gaze had returned to the screen by the time she replied, but he took the time to look at her like she was challenged, smile fondly, and then exiting out of the Cliffside one. A few more clicks, and he’d set up an appointment to look at it. “Can I look for some, later?”

                “Of course.”

                Later turned out to be after lunch and their appointment, mostly because the appointment was early. But the place turned out to have a tiny balcony, and none of the rooms were big enough for him to spread out his wings, so they left.

                Looking for apartments wasn’t fun, even with a budget. Because she still thought like poor Kendra, and poor Kendra had very few options. But she did persevere, and she always had good luck. So she set up three appointments, all with places that had large rooms, and balconies with a view. Carter seemed impressed and partly ashamed of his terrible finding skills.

                The first one they went to was by the seaside. She loved that immediately, but then realized that the previous occupants were smokers. The ad hadn’t mentioned that, the way the scent clung to everything, and Carter’s eyes watered angrily. The second one they entered, she knew she’d found her home. It was softly painted, with warm colors, and an island in the kitchen. Then, she saw the Jacuzzi bathtub and almost cried. Bailey, the one showing them around, subtly flipped her hair back with pride. Carter stifled a laugh.

                “So, you guys just moved here? What do you do?” Words flowed like syrup out of her as she motioned them to a table with paperwork.

                That part they hadn’t decided yet. And that gnawed at her, the fear that she’d pick it wrong. This was a serious chance to do whatever she wanted with her life, and she couldn’t mess it up. Not again. “I’m hoping to coach a little, but my main passion is cooking. Kendra here’s got a couple more options.”

                Well apparently _she_ hadn’t decided yet. Cooking made sense for him. Even coaching did, she realized as they went through each line, because look what he’d done with her. But for her? “Yeah, I’m thinking of either teaching or yeah. I’ve done a lot in the study of languages, but I’d also really like to work with immigrants and integration.”

                Bailey grabbed her hands then. “That is so amazing. Like I could never get involved with teaching—I’d go insane within a day—but oh sweetheart. She’s a keeper,” she said to Carter, who looked too pleased for her liking. “I wish I could set you up with something, but I’m sure someone like you will get it figured out in no time. What do you say about the paperwork? Do you want to get this place, or what?”

                For a second, Kendra had really hoped she was going to be offered a job, through some random connection. But as she went through, signing her name to every fucking line, she realized one lucky break was enough for her. When the deal was done, and Bailey was done hugging them, she looked at Carter, the keys on the table, and then back to Carter. “So. Cooking?”


	7. When I Grow Up, I Want Everything

“This place is known for its restaurants.”

                Which was true, and made her amazingly happy. She’d seen so many good ones as they walked through the city she was surprised she was put together enough to buy this place. “I just…I can’t imagine you cooking.”

                Wrong. That was wrong and not what she meant. “I’m only built for fighting?”

                “You’re…a lot.” Wow that sounded stupid. “Intense, and the only cooking shows I see the chefs are super peppy and weirdly obsessed with disgusting things and…large. Although _Ratatouille_ was different.”

                “I wouldn’t want to work at a Michelin five-star. But a respectable one would be fine.”

                “Well, I’ve loved your cooking thus far.”

                “Thanks.” A beat, then. “Can you ask Iris about the documents, soon? I looked up some jobs this morning and I’d like to go talk to them soon.”

                Now he was asking her to stay in contact with Central City, and he had to realize who was most likely going to be making those documents. The permission, unneeded anyways, was nice though. Like he was finally letting go, or at least, realizing that in this incarnation, they could have a life outside of each other. And maybe that was the issue. Maybe if you were always being chased, and always knowing you’d live on past everyone else, you saw no need for relationships. “Yeah. I’ll just think about what I want to do, okay?”

                “You’ll be great at anything.”

                They stood there, smiling at each other like idiots, before she finally coughed and decided they should move their things to the new place. It was a startlingly quick transaction that had just occurred. Probably facilitated by the large amounts of money they had somewhere—money she’d like to know more about for reasons—but still. Weird. Though useful and she couldn’t complain too much.

                Moving did not take long enough, but by the time they were done, it was dinner. And there was nothing in their apartment, no pictures or comfy chairs or distractions. Tomorrow, she decided, she’d go buy some of those things. Go visit an old bookstore, second-hand stores for decorations, and the IKEA for furniture. But tonight she had a sleeping bag and good, Carter-made food.

                “To a new life.” Carter didn’t make toasts. But this was a good moment. Free and happy and she couldn’t help but wonder about the future.

                “May we get everything we ever deserve.”

                The food was good, of course, and she resolved to figure out her life soon. So as soon as she shoveled her food down, she cleaned up, and then raced to her room—her beautiful huge room with a view of the city—to plan.

                Three hours later, she had no clue about anything. She’d never known what to do, not exactly, and now, she had too many options. Her skills gave her too wide of a range; the only limiting factor was her will. Her list of potential jobs had steadily grown, which was worrisome. They were all open jobs, in the city, with talents and skills she actually had. Or had had, way in the past, but she remembered them, and that’s what counted.

                So she could teach French to middle schoolers, or Chinese or Spanish to high schoolers. Or work in a homeless shelter. Or a museum, because most of the artifacts she actually recognized. Or archeology or teaching history. Or or or or. Goddamnit. She shouldn’t _complain_ about the abundance of options, but that’s what she was doing.

                Finally, she had enough with her list. She stopped looking at new jobs, and went through them, seeing which ones actually interested her. Teaching or the museum. And either sounded good. She stared, until the words seemed nonsensical, but nothing happened. She wanted to cry.

                Instead, she texted Caitlin and Cisco. Not in a groupchat. Caitlin knew what she wanted and went after it; Cisco would let her talk until she realized what she wanted. **_So I’ve moved and I’m looking for a new job. Have any advice?_**

                Caitlin didn’t respond right away, although she looked at it, which could either mean something was happening, or she was trying to come up with good advice. Cisco replied right away. **_What is something that will satisfy you to work for?_**

She doesn’t know. She just knew she wants to help people. **_Teaching. Or maybe working in a museum?_**

**_THAT WOULD BE SO COOL._**

**_To be in a museum. I love museums. I would visit you everyday._ **

**_And teaching would be super cool since you’ve lived through some of the stuff._ **

It would, but she’d never thought about that way. And then her phone buzzed. Caitlin. **_Which will work better for what you want to do? I’m assuming you’re planning on running around like Barry?_**

Trust Caitlin to think of something important. **_Yep._**

**_But I don’t want that to consume my life._ **

Teaching took a lot of you. It was a nine to five job with weekends and evenings taken, too. Unfortunately, her superpowers didn’t include not sleeping. Not sleeping just made her dead-looking and overly sensitive to noises and twitchy. She didn’t know what museum work contained, though.

                **_What are your ideas?_**

 ** _Museum work?_** Her fingers hesitated over the second half of the message, teaching, before she let the moment go.

                **_What level would you teach? And what museum?_** Cisco, late on the curve, as usual.

                **_I’m not sure it would work with vigilantism, but high school or college? And probably the history or art museum in the city._**

Art keeping she knew nothing about, but the position advertised had a historical component. And the history one, while mostly relating to local and American history, seemed doable.

**_Apply for a couple. But it would definitely be interesting, in your position._ **

**_I will. I just need some documents to back up my knowledge. I’ve been thinking, and looking through old records, and I’ve got quite a history of schooling. What I’ve learned has come back strongest._ **

Truthfully, she had way too many degrees, too much information stored in her skull. It came out in bursts. None of it surrounded recent technology though, so part of her wanted to learn computers and all that they involved. Because they would be around for a while.

                **_Good. Tell me how it goes, okay? I’ve got to run some tests on Jay, but I’ll talk to you later._**

She let herself take one deep breath in and out, and then texted Iris about the credentials she thought she needed, and the jobs she was looking at, in case she needed that information. Almost immediately, she got thumbs up and smiley face emoticons. Cisco still hadn’t replied, but it was late, so she went to take a shower, resolving that tomorrow, they’d go shopping.


	8. Chapter 8

The next morning, her alarm blared way too loudly for her liking. Carter was already cooking, which slightly made up for it, and a quick check of her phone declared three missed texts from Cisco.

**_Got the info! You’ll be one of the employeed masses soon!_ **

**_Also got Carter’s. I suppose I’ll do his too._ **

**_It’ll be done by tomorrow night. Night, Kendra._ **

“You look happy.” She was pretty sure Carter hadn’t even looked at her. Could he sense it, somehow, with his powers, or was that just lifetimes of knowledge bleeding through?

                “Our job stuff is working out. It should be good by tonight.”

                The joy in her voice was slightly contained, and Carter’s shoulders loosened. “So we’ve got today to shop.”

                “Don’t remind me.”

                “You can pick out the living room and your room. I’ll get the kitchen and mine.”

                “And the bathroom?” she asked, even as part of her wondered how splitting things up wouldn’t result in fighting.

                “Whoever gets done first can do that,” he replied, as he piled their plates with something, assured to be delicious but also unusual.

                Hurrying, then, was essential. Carter’s taste was clean; he liked white and metal and contrasts. It was harsh, easily scuffed, but not the warmest. For the bathroom, she wanted something comforting, especially since she loved baths. At least she had gotten the living room. She couldn’t live in Carter’s modern wasteland. “We’re going to IKEA?”

                His eyebrows scrunched, and he looked momentarily disgusted. “I was thinking a place with better quality.”

                Money. They had money now and she didn’t need to live like that anymore. “Well, I’ll wander around, and text you when I’m done with my share, okay?”

                “There’s cash over there, for you to use. If you need more, there’s a debit card, as well. The PIN is 1940.”

                She nodded, shoveled food down, and ran out the door. A couples minutes outside, she realized her coat had been left behind, but decided returning wasn’t worth it. The first stop on her list was a nice mattress store nearby, where she laid in every bed. It was heaven, and she almost fell asleep halfway through. She ended up buying the first mattress she had tested.

                From there, it was all a blur. There was a Crate and Barrell, where she bought bedroom supplies, like a nightstand, and a La-Z-Boy, where she found a couch that was the perfect amount of soft, and a Target, where she found lamps and posters. And, of course, an IKEA for organizational supplies and a bedframe. It was going to be eclectic, but she thought she got it right. Her room would be earthy, browns and greens. The lighting and bedstand resembled trees, and the pictures that decorated the walls would be posters of favorite series and quotes. The living room was just comfy. It was a recliner and too many coffee stands, a decent TV, and a sound system.

                **_I’m finished. How about you?_**

**_I can’t decide between beds. Help me pick one out._ **

That was a pick-up line. She wasn’t born yesterday. **_Sorry. I’ve got bathrooms to decorate!_**

IKEA was once again her friend. The bathroom, she decided halfway in, would be a mix of the clean modern and the warm. She’d accessorize with rugs and things, but keep it clean, sanitary looking. Dinner was at a local fast food joint, because as far as she knew, Carter was finding beds somewhere. It was definitely not as good as what she had been accustomed to, but the normality of it all assured her that some things were eternal.

                Around nine, she stumbled into the house. Still dark, which meant Carter was god-knows-where, but he texted while she was taking a bath, that he had found a bed, and also a possible job. She texted back thumbs up and party hats, considered her job as a friend and old soulmate more than done, and put on Netflix.

                Halfway into the second episode of the third season _The X-Files,_ she crashed. When she woke up, there were six texts, three missed calls, and her laptop was dead. Everything she had bought seemingly decided to come in, so she didn’t have time to fill out job applications, like she had planned. Although her credentials hadn’t shown up as promised, either.

                Carter had left her food and a note—he had shopping to finish, still—and she glared at both until the coffee went down. Then, she put on her happy face for the movers and directed them for everything. Some items, like her mattress, had decided to come before others that were equally important, like the bedframe, and she couldn’t help the slight annoyance that rolled over her. Then her phone buzzed.

                **_It’s all done!!!! Come to the office today, if you want it now, or I can FedEx it soon enough._**

It was one o’clock. She still hadn’t eaten, and was slightly starving. But if she left, she could be in Central in about thirty and actually see those she’d been texting for weeks. She needed that. She needed to fucking hug them and make sure it was going to be alright again. **_Can you order a pizza, or some fast food? You know what I like._**

**_You can get over here that quickly?_ **

**_Thirty minutes, tops._** Now she had to make it in twenty.

                **_Got ya._**

She wrote a quick note to Carter, and then climbed to the roof. They were close, already, but being up so high took her breath away. After shoving earplugs in and her goggles on, she ran off the building. When her wings snapped open, a wave of euphoria washed through her, and she couldn’t stop smiling for the next twenty-four minutes. The spires and city of Central had rose up in about twenty minutes, and she was sweating and shaking from exhaustion and hunger when she saw the familiar shape of STAR Labs.

                As she began her descent, she noticed waving red lights. A makeshift runway, with Cisco at the end. The goggles would fog up with tears, she realized as she felt them form, but her smile felt as if it was splitting her face. “Cisco! You…this is awesome!”

                “Well, it was just as awesome to see you fly. You beat the record, too.”

                Neither of them had moved for a hug, or even a handshake, but she told herself that was because of the box of pizzas he was holding. Not the intrinsic awkwardness of the situation. “So I bought three pizzas? One for me and Caitlin and Harry, and figured you needed at least two for flying so hard.”

                “Probably should’ve gotten three. I’ve been moving things around all day.”

                “Oooo. New apartment? Hope you brought pics,” he replied, and handed her the pizzas, so he could pick up the cones.

                “Come on. There’s stuff inside waiting.”

                He stuck out his elbow, and she latched her arm around his. It was stupid and corny and unlike anything she’d ever do with Carter. And that was neither good nor bad. She was Kendra, in the here and now, getting terrible pizza only available in Central, with people who had lives almost as weird as she. For now, she could be happy, and dream of possibilities and work on all those burnt bridges. “So I just decorated my room, and you know what awesome posters and wall art I found?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be honest, this ending wasn't what I started with. But as I started writing it, I realized I wanted Kendra to find herself more than finding comfort in others. And to do that, I wanted her to build friendships over relationships. And to leave it open, to imply that once she's done with all the Legends stuff, she can come back to Central to people that love her. Hope you liked it, and leave any comments or anything here, or at my art/writing blog on tumblr, the-nicest-angel-you-have.


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